


A Void Monster and a Zombie Walk Into a Library

by Eriakit



Series: Saeri Verse [9]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, M/M, Meet the Family, except you're all disowned and/or dead, indulgent nonsense because i love my friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriakit/pseuds/Eriakit
Summary: “Little elven place at the north edge of the Eastern Kingdoms. You might not have heard of it.”
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Garrosh Hellscream/Original Character(s)
Series: Saeri Verse [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/229673
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	A Void Monster and a Zombie Walk Into a Library

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragomir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/gifts).

> I don't just fuck around with my OWN OCs, no, that'd be too simple. Set in Legion!Dalaran, just after void elves become a Thing.

“Wave… drainer? Why is that - oh never mind. No, no, no… Wave_caster_, and curse the whole lot of _them_… as well as whoever designed this damned library! I can’t find a single damn - _ugh!” _Nurelion slammed the book in his hand back onto the shelf angrily, then hissed at it for good measure. “I have no idea what system these Kirin Tor _fools_ are using, but it definitely isn’t a _logical_ one!”

Storming across the room to yet another set of bookshelves, he continued ranting to himself. “And here I thought it would be a simple task! Just head over to the largest intact library that hasn’t been _burnt to the ground_ in the last few decades and take a look around for some family records! See if any of the unlucky cousins made it out alive! Possibly learn who I should be avoiding nowadays_.” _He paused, wincing, then shook his head and continued his search of the shelves. “But no, no, instead I find an unholy mishmash of a so-called _organizational system_, if I care to insult the term to refer to this _hodgepodge _by it, where for some ridiculous reason the Brightlakes are filed with the Seakindlers and the Dawnwing are mixed in with the Sunvine and the bloody _Wavechasers_ are-“

“In Silvermoon City, last I heard.”

Nurelion whipped his head around at the oddly echoing voice, glasses going slightly askew until he jerked one hand up to fix them. Standing behind him was a strange looking elf - one of the sin’dorei, or perhaps quel’dorei, if his guess was right, but he looked… wrong. Not even taking into account the oddly braided hair or the primitive looking piercings, his skin was disturbingly pale with a hair-raising blue cast to it, his cheeks gaunt, his glowing, blue eyes somewhat sunken into his skull. Nurelion swallowed harshly, then straightened.

The death knight raised one pale brow and continued. “Little elven place at the north edge of the Eastern Kingdoms. You might not have heard of it.”

“I have heard of it, actually, tiny as it is,” he said, as much sarcasm as he could muster stuffed into the words. “But how, exactly, would _you _know where the Wavechasers are?” he asked, attempting to keep his tone civil in the face of the other elf’s sardonic attitude.

The stranger huffed, the sound bitterly amused. “It was where they were living when they disowned me, and since I haven’t heard about any of them dying, my guess is they’re still there.”

Nurelion brightened immediately, which seemed to unsettle the other elf. Tucking a lock of dark hair behind his ear, Nurelion darted forward a couple of steps before thinking better of it as the giant sword attached to the death knight’s back registered. He grinned at the other elf, distantly surprised that he seemed to be ever so slightly shorter than himself. He’d looked much more imposing from a distance.

Nurelion leaned in close, squinting at the other elf until the death knight shuffled back a step. The slight awkwardness twigged something in Nurelion’s mind and he gasped, leaning back abruptly. It was difficult to tell with the changes in the elf’s appearance, bloodless skin and gaunt cheeks where there used to be a healthy glow and fullness, but he looked like... “Nan?”

The other elf, his _cousin_, jerked back, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you…” he trailed off, eyes widening. He gave Nurelion a closer look, obviously trying to picture how he would look without the influence of the Void. “...Nurelion?”

Nurelion grinned wildly. “It _is_ you! I thought so, but it’s been a while and you’re, well… you look different.”

Anandel snorted. “I’m _dead_, yes, that tends to ruin the complexion. But you don’t have that excuse. What the hell did you suck on, Nurelion? You’ve got _tentacles. _On your _head.”_

Nurelion cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, well, that… takes a little explaining. Perhaps we could head to the Lounge for a coffee?”

Anandel shook his head, smirking, the action accompanied by an eerie clicking and clacking from the beads in his hair. “No, but we could go there for something stronger.”

Nurelion laughed, nodding, and they set off.

***

He had missed having family, truly, even as solitary as he tended to be. However he hadn’t expected the reunion to involve living corpses or orc in-laws. Not that he had a problem with any of that, but it was a bit of a shock.

He gulped as he looked up, and up, and up some more, because Anandel’s husband - mate? Both? - was much taller than him as it was, and had also come over them at Anandel’s request to be introduced after Nurelion had sat down. He blinked owlishly at the huge orc as Anandel watched him over the rim of his mug, then mentally shrugged and offered his hand to shake. “It’s ah, nice to meet you. I’d prefer it if you didn’t break my hand shaking it.”

The orc - Garrosh, his name was, and from what news Nurelion had heard he thought that, perhaps, his cousin had some more explaining to do… or perhaps he shouldn’t ask - grinned lopsidedly, taking his hand with two fingers and exaggerated care. He shook deliberately slowly, and Nurelion was amused and intimidated enough to only smile in return and hope it was meant in a friendly fashion.

“I like you,” Garrosh said, and then sat with a great _thud_ in the chair to the left of Nurelion, closer to Anandel’s half of the round table, and promptly stole some of his husband’s food. Nurelion absently hoped his approval was a _good_ thing in the long run, and then shook himself and knocked back some more liquor. They had more catching up to do.

***

An hour or so and several drinks later, Nurelion was no longer intimidated by the food-stealing, belching, smirking lump of a dead orc to his left. He was more invested in keeping that orc away from _his_ dinner as he finally gathered up the (mostly liquid) courage to prod at the sleeping bear that was Anandel’s disownment. The other elf had been quick to joke about it, but shied away from any true discussion of it fairly quickly, and Nurelion’s curiosity finally grew to outweigh his courtesy.

He took another sip of his drink, swatted at Garrosh’s hand when it got too close to his dinner roll, and then prodded his cousin’s armored ankle with his boot. Anandel made an inquisitive hum in return, busy sneaking a piece of Garrosh’s chicken from the orc’s plate to his. Nurelion was distracted for a moment by the ensuing silent argument full of betrayed, pleading looks and indifferent eyerolls, then cleared his throat to smother a laugh and asked his question.

“You said you were disowned by our family.”

Anandel and Garrosh both stiffened slightly. Garrosh scowled and buried his face in his mug, muttering to himself, but Anandel plastered on a smirk and shrugged, his beaded braids jangling as they slid off his shoulder at the movement. “_Your_ family, you mean. I go by Anandel Gravechaser, now - I’ve been informed I don’t have any claim to their name. They want nothing to do with me, and the feeling is mutual.”

Garrosh muttered some more, just low enough Nurelion couldn’t catch it, but Anandel obviously could as he followed it up by kicking at the orc’s ankle. Nurelion raised an eyebrow at that, but let it be. “But _why_ did they do it? There’s precious few of us as it is, surely they - “ Anandel clenched his jaw and growled, slamming his mug down onto the table. Nurelion twitched, but didn’t take back the question. “Because I caused them a hell of a lot of trouble by dying, and then didn’t even have the grace to stay dead. It would have been cleaner that way.”

Nurelion was horrified, but not truly surprised. Before he could answer, however, Garrosh broke in, apparently done with being quiet about the subject.

“They called him a monster. They won’t let him see his brother, or even send him any letters.” He snarled at the thought of them, leaning forward and ignoring Anandel when he tried to tell him to shut up. “If you ask me, _they’re_ the monsters. Anyone who would turn away clan, and hurt them like that, when they’re lucky enough to get them back from the dead... “ He scoffed. “His parents are _stupid_ monsters.”

Anandel sighed, all the fight gone out of him, and put his hand on Garrosh’s shoulder. “That’s enough. Thank you, but... “ He shook his head, beads clicking, and Garrosh settled back into his chair.

Nurelion shook his head, staring down at his plate, shoulders sagging. “No, he’s right. We’ve lost too many to not be grateful when one of us is returned to us.” He cleared his throat, doing his best to smile in the face of the grim mood that had settled over the table. “Well, I suppose it’s best I’ve taken the name Shadechaser, then. It seems at least some of the family won’t exactly welcome me back with open arms, what with my… recent changes.” He gestured grandly at the entirety of himself, cheered when his tablemates both chuckled.

It was quiet for a bit, all of them finishing their dinners. There was less in the way of food-stealing, as if the game had lost its appeal in the face of family difficulties, until Nurelion somehow lost his other dinner roll and finally gave in and joined the battle. He got half his roll back along with some of the previously-stolen chicken from Anandel’s plate, then simply played defense until he’d finished, leaving the other two to renewed squabbling.

When they had all finished they remained there, sharing stories and drink until Nurelion, at least, grew tired - the death knights seemed to not mind the late hour. He stretched, and made to stand, before stopping at a sudden thought.

“‘Nan?”

Anandel groaned good-naturedly. “What?”

“I don’t suppose you know who… who of the family, the extended family, are still alive?”

He met Nurelion’s eyes, then shook his head slowly. “No, not exactly. You could try the archives in Silvermoon - they try to keep as detailed records of births and deaths as possible, since the Scourge.”

Nurelion winced. “I, ah, don’t believe they would let me. It’s a bit sensitive now, you know, what with Alleria…”

Anandel winced as well. “Right, joining Vareesa and the Alliance.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then sighed. “I suppose I could look, for you. I’ve still that right, at least.”

Nurelion smiled at him, reaching out to take his cousin’s hand. “Thank you. Really.” He chuckled to himself as Anandel waved him off with his free hand. “No, really, thank you. It will be nice to know, if only to know which assholes to avoid at the next family gathering.”

He squeezed Anandel’s hand once and then left, Garrosh’s guffaws following him out the door of the Legerdemain.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, we've made Garrosh a DK. No, that's not the point of the fic. Yes, theres a fic where that is the point of it in the works. No, I haven't finished it yet. Yes, I hate how out of order all this is, too.
> 
> Just focus on enjoying the cute elves and shit and pay no attention to my lack of ability to write shit in order! :D


End file.
